


Illusion

by sunalso



Series: Season 6 Bits and Pieces [4]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Academy Era, Angst and Feels, Breeding Kink, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Feels, Season/Series 06, Suit Kink, The Framework Universe (Marvel), spec fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-13 07:38:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19246762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: AU S6. Jemma and Fitz are not when or where they want to be. Or maybe they are. Reality is an illusion, but at least they have each other.Beta'd by Gort





	1. Sugar

_A/N: Written in the week between episode 6x05 and 6x06 airing. My version of what’s being done to FS to push them towards inventing time travel. Spoiler: It’s not going how anyone is expecting it to. This is a little different than what I usually write, please pay attention to the tags, most of which apply to the second chapter. Here be a few (smutty) dragons._

 

_****_

Jemma wasn’t entirely sure of everything that was happening at the moment. It was all very confusing. She walked outside, Fitz right next to her as always, and paused for a moment on the pavement that bordered The Academy’s quad.

She blinked in the bright sunlight. “Fitz, I feel a little off. I know we're supposed to head back to the lab, but I think I should go to my room and maybe drink a bottle of water first. I think I might be dehydrated.”

Fitz nodded slowly. “I feel a bit that way myself. We stayed up too late studying last night. It’s like a test-prep hangover.”

“Yes, silly us. A stop for water and then we’ll plunge right back into working on our senior project.” The details of the project were somewhat fuzzy. She must really be dehydrated, but she felt certain when they made it to the lab, she’d know exactly what the next step to take would be.

Her dorm was closer, and they quickly climbed the stairs to her room. Inside, she headed for the mini-fridge and Fitz sat on the edge of her bed. She unscrewed the lid of a plastic refillable bottle and gulped down half of it, before handing it to Fitz so he could do the same.

Jemma felt a little better, though the details of their senior project still eluded her. Fitz set the bottle on the table beside her bed and rubbed both hands over his face. “I might need a nap before we get started. I’ve got thirty circuit diagrams spinning around in my head, but I’m not sure which ones I’m supposed to be focusing on.”

He kicked his shoes off and loosened his tie. Jemma’s heart did a funny pitter-patter when he pulled it from around his neck, and liquid heat pooled low in her belly.

Fitz yawned, scooted over, and lay down, his head propped on one hand. She was going to argue, but then she yawned. “Maybe a short one? We’ve got a terrible lot of work to do.”

“Just for a few minutes. I’m beat.”

Jemma shrugged her jacket off, and Fitz’s eyes widened as he watched her undo the top few buttons of her blouse. She lay next to him, not much room between them on the narrow bed. The usual for them would be to now turn back to back, in case anyone had bad breath, and catch a few minutes of sleep before they returned to their project.

Nothing felt normal. Jemma stared into Fitz’s bright blue eyes, feeling like she hadn’t seen him in far too long. Which didn’t make sense. They spent every day in the lab together.

“I…Jemma, why does it feel like I’ve been missing you?” He pushed her hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek.

Jemma could hardly think as her skin prickled with awareness from the barest press of his palm to her face. Her eyes dropped to his lips. She leaned forward and kissed him.

It was soft and warm, his lips meeting hers in just the right way. Fitz tilted his head slightly, and it felt even better. Her fingers went to his face, scratching softly at the smooth skin. He moaned and caught her lower lip between his to suck on before breaking the kiss.

Jemma tried to follow his mouth, but his hand tangled in her hair stopped her. He looked very confused.

“Jemma…Simmons,” he said, voice hoarse. “Um, we…we haven’t done this before, have we? I can’t remember us…kissing before.”

She traced her thumb over his lower lip. “No, I…I don’t remember us having ever…but…”

“It’s like we have. It’s like we’re coming home.”

“Please.” She pressed her lips to his, needing him. She swung her leg over his hip, holding all of him close. “Please,” she muttered again against his mouth.

Fitz moaned and ground his hard-on against her as his hand drifted down her back to grab her bum. It all seemed so familiar, but that couldn’t be. It was very unlikely she would have had sex with her best friend and lab partner numerous times and not remember any of them.

Keeping her mouth glued to his, she undid the buttons of her blouse, followed by the front of her trousers. A mewl escaped her lips as Fitz moved exactly right to hit her clit. She made quick work of his button up, and then they had to part for a moment to finish wiggling out of their clothes.

It was…odd that Fitz kicked his boxers off without a pause, though much less strange that he pushed her onto her back and went after her breasts. He nuzzled and cooed to them as she stroked her fingers through his wild curls. He radiated joy as his mouth closed around one of her nipples, and Jemma arched her back. He was cradled safely between her thighs, and she didn’t think she ever wanted to let him go.

His mouth was sweet to her breasts, and he paid attention to each of them equally, his fingers playing with whichever side his mouth wasn’t worshiping. When he finally kissed his way up to her mouth, and the head of his cock dragged through her folds, she was more than ready for him.

Jemma kissed him wildly, her hips bucking. He broke away from her mouth to kiss along her jaw, then rose up to look into her face. She knew his face better than her own, and for the first time, she realized he didn’t look quite right. His cheeks were thinner, and there were lines that looked permanently etched on his brow and around his mouth.

“Fitz?”

His eyes rose from where they’d been locked on her breasts, again. He was bloody predictable. Only he shouldn’t be. She’d never been naked with him before.

“Do I look…older to you?” They were seventeen, weren’t they? Fitz’s hair was its usual mess, but his face looked different. Rougher.

Fitz winced and stopped moving. “Um…do you really want me to answer that? Right now?”

“I’m not going to get mad.”

He didn’t look sure, but his fingers brushed her hair to the side as he studied her. “A little, maybe? There are lines here.” He brushed the corner of her eye. “And here.” He touched the edge of her lips. “But you…you’re my gorgeous Jemma.”

“And you’re my handsome Fitz.”

He smiled, and it only made her want him more. It’d been so long since she’d felt him inside her. Or…wait, he’d never been inside her.

Why was she so confused? Maybe she just loved him so much that it felt like they’d been together much longer than they had.

“What’s that grin for?” Fitz asked, nipping at her neck in the way only he knew how. It never failed to drive her wild.

“I was thinking about how there’s only you for me in the whole universe.”

“Oh, Jemma.” His hips jerked against her, and she spread her legs further apart. Fitz grabbed his cock with one hand and directed it to her opening. He stopped, and his brows furrowed. “Condom?”

“You know I haven’t got any. I’m focused on my work here. Our...project.” That they were supposed to be working on right now, but she had to have Fitz. She’d missed him.

Fitz groaned and shut his eyes. “I suppose we can do things that make that unnecessary.”

“We could.” Only no. She wanted him in her. Not hands. Not mouths. She wanted his cock in her channel, where it belonged. “Let’s take the risk. Let what happens, happen.”

The head of Fitz’s cock nudged into her, stretching her. “Are you sure?”

“Are you?”

Peace appeared to settle over him. “Yes. It’s okay. Even if we never get done with our project, we can still find work. And you’d be the best mum ever.”

“And you the best da. I don’t care if everyone thinks we're too young. We’ll muddle along.” Jemma went from worrying about what the next step in their project was to being nearly delirious with wanting to get pregnant. “Knock me up, Fitz.”

He groaned and thrust deep into her. “Going to fill you,” Fitz whispered beside her ear. His hand slipped between their bodies and found her clit. Jemma gasped as her inner walls tightened around his prick. “You always like this. A quick little orgasm right at the start.”

She did, but how did he know that? Jemma hadn’t even known that until he’d said it.

Fitz’s fingers petted her as if he’d made a study of what she enjoyed most, and it was less than a minute before she dug her heels into the bed and came with a gasp.

“There you go,” Fitz muttered. “That’s it. Now it’s my turn. Spread your legs.”

Her knees dropped to the side, opening her up for him. Like it was nothing new, Fitz braced his hands on either side of her and pistoned his hips while mouthing her neck and shoulder. For long moments Jemma simply existed, aware of nothing but Fitz’s weight on top of her and the rapid plunging of his cock.

“Fuck, Jems,” he breathed. “I want this so bad.” He slowed down and sat back, his cock still moving in and out of her. “Doesn’t make sense. We have our project…and school…” His hands gripped her thighs, behind her knees, and pushed her legs up and out.

Fitz’s eye fluttered closed.

Her body was working towards another climax, his cock so deep it was brushing her cervix in a heady mix of pleasure and pain. “I feel like I’ve given…school, so much. Just get me pregnant, Fitz.” He grunted, and for the second, her mind was in free fall. Hadn’t they had a baby? There’d been a baby once.

“I’m going to come in you,” Fitz said, pulling her right back to the moment. “Fill you full. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” she said. Her hands fisted the covers, and her eyes darted from one bit of Fitz to the other. Shoulders that were broader than they should be. Muscles standing out on his chest and stomach she was almost sure he hadn’t had when they’d last been swimming. “Come in me. Please, please. I’ve been so empty.”

He slammed his hips forward one more time, and she could feel the pulse of his cock as his release hit. Pulse after pulse, painting her channel and filling it. Jemma couldn’t quite remember what day it was, or where in her cycle she was, but she hoped she was fertile. If not, they could always try again and again.

Panting, Fitz sat back on his heels, his cock sliding out of her. “No,” she moaned.

Fitz only smiled, and his hands traveled from her thighs to her calves. He lifted her legs so that her bum was slightly off the bed and both her ankles were on his shoulder. “Stay just like that,” he said. “I like to think my swimmers are champions, but let's give them the best chance.” His clever fingers found her clit and rubbed little circles over it. “You can play with your tits if you want.”

Laughing softly, before breaking off into a moan, Jemma cupped her breasts with both hands and pinched her nipples.

“Fitz,” she said, then had to fight to get air while her body tightened towards a climax.

“That’s it.” His finger moved faster. “Come for me. I’ve done what I could. Now you need to help out.”

Her hips rocked slightly. “Don’t I do all the work for the next nine, well ten, months?”

“Ah.” He kissed her ankle. “Not much I can do about the being pregnant part, but the getting pregnant part we can share.”

Her breathing all but stopped. They were sharing this and doing what they wanted. So many rules she’d always had to follow, and she’d hated breaking any of them.

Except for Fitz. And now she’d have his child growing under her heart, and The Academy would probably kick them both out.

Which she was oddly okay with.

Funny thing, that.

Her toes curled, and the world exploded.

The orgasm blossomed inside her, and her hips humped against his hand. “Baby,” she gasped.

“Yes,” Fitz said, his fingers still moving against her oversensitive clit. “I’m going to put a baby in your belly, Jemma.”

“That is so not how biology works.”

Fitz made a face.

“But it’s a decent sentiment for dirty talk,” she amended.

He kissed her ankle again but didn’t let her go, even as the bliss dissipated.

“One more, please,” he said. “I bathed your pussy in come. Let’s get it in just that much further.”

Jemma watched his face as he concentrated on what he was doing to her, and her body quickly ramped back up towards another climax.

“I love you,” she blurted. Because she did. “I know I haven’t said it before.” But she had. She was certain she’d told him many times. There’d been…the wedding?

“I love you too.” His words were firm. “I love you. I’ll love the family we make. We’re going to be so good together.”

“Yes,” she said, hissing a bit on the last word as a third peak filled her with love and joy.

This time, when she returned from orbit, Fitz set her legs down and stretched out beside her. “I think we’ll have a little girl.” His voice was dreamy.

Jemma sucked in a breath. There had been a little girl. She was almost certain of it. Who’d had a little boy in turn.

“Deke,” she said.

“I am not naming any child of ours Deke,” Fitz grumbled.

“No, you’re his Bobo.”

“His _what_?”

Jemma shook her head. “Something’s wrong. I can remember things. I remember Deke. And this isn’t the first time we’ve made love.”

Fitz’s face became pained. “I…it’s not?”

“Empirical evidence, Fitz. Could seventeen-year-old you have sent me over the moon three times with a good deal of highly enjoyable intercourse in between?”

“No?” His cheeks reddened.

“I love you, Fitz. That’s real. Remember that’s real. But we’re not at The Academy.”

“Space,” he said, and with the word, reality started to flow back in, and the world around her became hazy. “No. I love you. Don’t go.”

His arms clamped her, but it was too late. They’d broken through whatever was being done to them.

Vertigo hit Jemma, right tight before a fresh blast of chemicals came through an IV. She could feel the cold fluid moving up her arm.

“Enoch,” said a prim female voice. “This is not going to work if they simply end up copulating endlessly in every scenario they’re presented with.”

Jemma feebly moved, but it was too late. Her mind was already being thrown somewhere different, and her only solace was that Fitz would be there with her.

She clung to a thread of hope: that someday they’d have their little family, and that it would be as sweet as she’d been dreaming.

 


	2. Spice

His cuff links were crooked. Fitz straightened them and made sure the cuffs of his shirt were exactly the proper half-inch past the end of the sleeves of his black, bespoke jacket.

“Will that be all?” asked a rough man’s voice, and for a second Fitz couldn’t remember where he was, or what he was doing, but then it snapped into focus. He was in his office, high atop HYDRA’s headquarters, and he was building a machine for…no, not her. Never Ophelia. She wasn’t real.

There was a muffled whimper, and Fitz’s eyes darted to the woman in a black jumper and trousers. Currently, his wife was zip tied—one holding each limb—to a decently sturdy wooden chair. She had a gag as well, and a second burly man stood on the other side of her.

“Leave us,” Fitz said, he eyes boring into the pale face of his wife.

The men nodded. “Yes, Doctor.” They filed out, closing the door behind them. With a press of a button, Fitz locked it.

Jemma made a noise that was muffled by the gag, and Fitz couldn’t help himself as he got up and untied the rag from around her head. He tsked over it. “Not the high quality you’re used to, is it, Mrs. Fitz?”

“What are you doing?”

Fitz sat on the front edge of his desk and drank in the sight of Jemma. Her dark hair curled slightly as it brushed her shoulders, and her face was pale. Almost wan. His eyes wandered lower. Even in the shapeless jumper she had on, he could make out her tits. Fuck, she made his blood run hot.

Her running out on him also made his blood boil. She’d been gone far too long, hiding in SHIELD’s bosom. It’d not been what he’d expected of her. Jemma was his.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” he asked.

Jemma looked at her lap, her head hanging forward. “No.”

Just one word. Months and months without the love of his life, and now she didn’t even want to speak to him.

Fitz stood and walked to stand right in front of her. She’d been gone such a long time without him. Jemma might look demure, almost virginal, but he knew better. He knew everything about Jemma.

Almost everything. Not what she’d been doing for the last year. There were a lot of men in SHIELD, any of which she could have been spreading her legs for. His chest burned.

“Who have you been fucking, Mrs. Fitz?”

Her head snapped up, and she glared at him. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me, Mrs. Fitz. Who have you been fucking?” He twisted enough to pick up a box from his desk. The worn wood was smooth against his fingers.

“Why on earth would you think that’s what I’ve been doing? I’ve been helping us. Making friends in SHIELD, gaining their trust.”

Fitz opened the lid of the box. Inside, a surgical scalpel gleamed in the light of his office.

“With no contact? When you just left in the middle of the night?” Fitz’s chest ached. The details were slipping away from him, but he could remember well the cold weight that’d settled in the pit of his stomach when he’d realized she was gone. “Is it the director? The Patriot? Decided you needed fewer brains and more muscles to get you off?”

“Stop it. I’m your wife. You blew my entire operation by barreling into their safe house and grabbing me like that. Months of work and sacrifice gone.”

Jemma scoffed, and she mostly sounded indignant, but there was something else happening. Something she wasn’t sharing. Fitz wanted to know what that was.

He set the box aside and help up the scalpel. “You see, Mrs. Fitz, I don’t believe you. I needed you here to help me with the design and building of an incredibly complex machine. One that could change everything and eradicate SHIELD for good, and instead you’re playing house with them.” He stood. “I don’t care if I made it impossible to go back to whoever your fuck toy is. I need you here.”

Jemma seemed to try and make herself smaller in the chair she was tied to. “I am still your wife, and I’ll help you, but you have to believe me when I say I never slept with anyone there.”

“I.” Fitz moved to stand right in front of the chair. “Do not.” He grabbed the front of her jumper. “Believe you.” The fabric parted easily under his scalpel, and he quickly slit it the entire way down “Am I going to see marks on your skin, Mrs. Fitz? From whoever you’ve been letting inside your cunt?”

“Please, Fitz,” she whimpered. “Stop.”

He didn’t, only moved to cut through the jumper’s sleeves so he could pull it off her. She had a deceptively demure blouse on, and he sliced off the buttons one by one. When the last landed soundlessly on the thick carpet, he pulled the sides of her shirt open. Her pale skin, with its smattering of freckles, was unmarked.

He flicked the scalpel through the front of her bra, then slid the cap over the blade with his thumb and dropped it in his suit pocket. Fitz knelt in front of his wife and carefully peeled the cups of her bra away from her tits. Under his scrutiny, they tightened into points.

His cock jerked. Fuck her for being turned on, and for the mere sight of her breasts making him hard.

He reached for her tit, and his head spun with a thousand different images of him holding Jemma, touching her, the plans he’d had to ask her to marry him. Fitz shook his head. That wasn’t…she was already his wife.

“Why weren’t you here?” he snarled, grabbing her breast and pinching the nipple.

Jemma made a breathless noise and wiggled in the chair. “You’re hurting me.”

“And it makes you wet.”

She didn’t deny it as her face and cheeks flushed. “I was doing what I had to,” she whispered. “But once I was in, I couldn’t leave. I never wanted to be away.”

He let go of her nipple, and she gasped.

Jemma’s face was so earnest that he wanted to believe her. Only the deep well of pain from her being gone hardened his heart. She wouldn’t have simply stayed there unless she was playing whore to one of them. He’d make her remember who she belonged to.

He pulled the scalpel back out and held it up as he slowly slid the blade’s cover down. “I’m afraid, Mrs. Fitz, that I am unable to find it in me to think you were other than faithless.” He glanced at her hand. “Where’s your ring? I’ve never taken mine off.”

Jemma frowned. “Well, that’s not right. I’ve always had mine on since you placed it there.”

“I don’t see it.” He lowered the scalpel to her trousers as Jemma stared at her naked finger. The blade cut easily through her trousers and the plain cotton of her panties. He divested her of both, along with her socks and shoes, and the remains of her blouse and bra. Her eyes were dazed as she gazed at him. He hadn’t left a mark on her skin.

Fitz turned his back on Jemma and carefully set the scalpel down on his desk. “Did you fuck your lover this morning?” he said, voice cool and low.

She was silent.

Fists clenched, he turned. “Mrs. Fitz, I asked you a question. Did you wake up this morning and fuck your lover?”

“No.”

“Last night?”

“I haven’t been with anyone.”

“Then spread your legs.” Her knees being demurely clamped together infuriated him. They had work to do. Important work, but all he could think about was that his wife had been gone. He’d missed her, and he hadn’t been able to get her back. Until now.

“I don’t want to do this,” she whispered. “Not like this.”

He knelt before her again and set his hands on her knees. “Spread your legs.”

She trembled.

Fuck this. He hadn’t become The Doctor because he’d let anyone tell him no.

His hands tightened, and he shoved her legs apart. Jemma mewled and his cock strained against his trousers. Her pussy was slick with desire and her clit swollen. He bent forward, sniffing her. The only thing he scented was her sweet arousal. He pressed closer and licked her pussy, from opening to clit.

Jemma made the most fantastic noise and honey dripped from her channel onto the hard, wood seat of the chair.

“Not like this,” she said again, but there was resignation in her voice.

Fitz lapped at her, tasting nothing but Jemma. If she’d been with someone else, it hadn’t been recently. A knot unwound in his chest, though the fierce stab of pain at having been separated from her was still spurring him on.

His tongue relearned every hillock and valley of her cunt and returned again and again to her clit to lash it the way he knew would get her off. Jemma was moaning, soft noises that he treasured. Pausing, he rubbed his rough cheek against her inner thigh. The moaning got louder.

“Are you going to tell me to stop?” he asked, knowing she wouldn’t. Jumma’s only response was to jerk at her restraints and roll her hips. “As wanton as always.”

He returned to feasting on her. Whoever she’d been fucking at SHIELD, she’d forget them soon enough. Fitz knew how she worked. He would wring so much pleasure from her body she wouldn’t even remember her own name. This was just a start.

Jemma’s thighs quivered, and he flicked his tongue over her clit hard. She came silently, but he could feel her cunt pulsing against his chin. He leaned against her, breathing deeply. His cock ached it was so full. He needed her.

Always needed her. And she’d been gone.

Gone.

Sucking in a breath, he stood and reclaimed the scalpel from his desk.

“Fitz,” Jemma said as he cut through her wrist restraints. “Fitz, you’re crying.” He bent and freed her legs as well. Hand on her wrist, he hauled her out of the chair, stepped behind her, and bent her over his desk. The scalpel he tossed beside her.

He knocked her bare feet apart with one of his eighteen-hundred-dollar Tom Ford lace-up oxfords.

Jemma stayed put when he let go to undo his belt and trousers.

“Don’t take anything off,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him for a brief second before returning her eyes to the top of his desk.

Fitz chuckled, and quickly wiped his cheeks, surprised at how wet with tears they were. When had that happened? He grabbed her arse, kneading, and Jemma moaned and pushed back towards him. She did like him to fuck her when he was dressed up, and more than once she’d done up his tie for him in the morning before sinking to her knees and sucking him off.

Another memory, this one much more vivid, was of them sprawled on a bed somewhere with brick walls. They were laughing, and Jemma was pushing him down on the bed and crawling on top of him.

Fitz snorted.

That wasn’t Jemma. He grasped one of her hips and used the other to line himself up with her opening. He thrust home with a grunt, not stopping until he had all of his cock pressed inside her.

“Mrs. Fitz,” he said softly. “I’m going to fuck you hard now. Hard enough you’ll forget anyone besides me has ever touched you.”

“There’s only been you,” she said. “Only you.”

He smacked her arse, leaving a red handprint behind. Jemma sagged against the desk. “I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to come because you’re so glad it’s my prick inside you.” And she’d forget about anyone but him.

Jemma braced her hands against the desk. “I’m going to ask you one more time to stop,” she said. “This isn’t us.” Her words were belied by how she tilted her pelvis to present her dripping cunt to him.

“It is now.”

But hadn’t it always been…but no, they—

Fitz growled. He’d teach her who she belonged to.

His thrusts were rough and fast. He jackhammered into her sopping pussy, the wet noise obscenely loud in his office. Jemma was still at first, but then she started pushing back towards him.

“Come,” he barked at her. The walls of her channel tightened and her back arched.

Jemma came with a wail, her back bowed and her cunt milking his cock.

When she dropped forward again, his hips churned frantically.

He peaked with a roar.

After the first pulse of his cock, he pulled out, stroking himself through the climax as he streaked her pussy and arse with his come.

“There,” he said as he tucked his softening prick away. “You’re mine, Jemma.” Fitz stepped back, and Jemma pushed herself upright. She turned to face him.

Everything went sideways.

He gaped at her.

What had he just done? He wasn’t…he’d…he’d--

Fitz looked down at his clothes in horror, and his knees gave out. He collapsed to the floor in a heap, his hands over his face.

Jemma wiggled onto his lap a second later.

“This isn’t me,” he said as she pulled his palms away from his face.

“I know. It’s okay. It’s okay. No matter what happens, it’s okay. I love you, Leo Fitz. Even these parts of you that you hate.”

“I hurt you. I missed you, and I kept thinking you’d--”

“I’m fine. I actually enjoyed that a little too much. I believe once we’re home, I’ll have to see a therapist about it.”

He tucked her hair behind her ear. He didn’t deserve her. “If we ever get married, we’d hyphenate our last names, wouldn’t we?” It’d felt so odd, calling her Mrs. Fitz.

Jemma’s face paled, and her expression became pained. “I’m sure we would.”

“We’ll get out of here,” he promised her. “And we’ll be okay. You’ll be okay.” He was less sure about himself. “Promise me you’ll won’t let me end up being…that you’d…”

Her gaze dropped to her hands. “You know I can’t.”

“Jemma—”

But then she was gone, and he was gasping and lying on his back, looking at the ceiling of the bloody ship they were on. This had to stop.

What if he hurt her again? That he could even imagine hurting her was a pain that burned like the surface of the sun.

“No more,” he cried. “Stop.”

It didn’t surprise Fitz at all, as he was dragged back under, that nobody had listened to his plea.

He held his breath, wishing for whatever was next not to hurt.


	3. Everything Nice

Jemma sighed and blinked her eyes. She’d spaced out over the laundry, again. Making a mental note to grab a pregnancy test the next time she was at the store, she dumped the laundry detergent she was holding into the wash and started the machine.

They’d been trying for a month, and she really hadn’t believed she’d get pregnant that fast.

In the living room, she found Fitz half-asleep on the couch as he nursed a beer and watched a football game. Their daughter, six-year-old Molly, was fast asleep and leaning against her father. A book was clutched against her chest like a teddy bear.

Jemma stopped and bent over the back of the couch to kiss Fitz’s forehead. He smiled sleepily up at her, and her heart nearly stopped in her chest. She wiped at her eyes.

“Everything okay?” he asked, concern coloring his features.

“Yes, I’m just being a bit silly. You and Molly looking so happy and content made me feel happy as well. And—”

“And?”

“I might be pregnant.”

A grin spread over his face. “Oh no, you’ll be crying over cute puppies and pretty math equations for months now.”

Jemma tapped the end of his nose. “I will, which means you’re contractually obligated to be nice to me.”

“It’ll be such a hardship, but somehow I’ll survive.”

Molly yawned and stretched before smiling up at Fitz and Jemma. “What’s for dinner?”

“Yeah, mum,” Fitz said. “What’s for dinner?”

“Vegetable lasagna and salad, which I’ll only make if somebody gets their room cleaned up.”

Molly’s eyes, so much like Jemma’s, widened comically. “But I’m hungry.” Molly might look just like Jemma, but she’d inherited her stomach from her father.

“Don’t worry, Monkey,” Fitz patted her back. “Da will help.”

****

Jemma held her plate out for a piece of the promised vegetable lasagna.

“Chew with your mouth closed,” Fitz said to Molly around a mouth full of food as he placed the lasagna on her plate.

Jemma added a healthy amount of salad and grabbed her favorite raspberry balsamic vinaigrette.

Molly made a face at her da, then opened her mouth wide to show him the bite she was chewing, and he did the same back, making her giggle.

“You two,” Jemma said affectionately. How had she gotten so lucky as to have Fitz and Molly, and a possible new addition on the way? For a second, vertigo hit her. She couldn’t quite remember the hospital stay with having Molly, but she had certainly had a daughter. And…it smoothed out in her head. There’d been some drugs she’d been given after the birth, and it’d made Jemma terribly woozy and left a hole or two in her memory. Right. That’s what had happened.

She had her daughter, husband, and high-level project for SHIELD in the basement she’d work on with Fitz for an hour or two after Molly went to bed.

“Everything okay?” Fitz asked, putting a hand on her arm.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Woolgathering over a touch of nausea.” She flipped the top of the salad dressing bottle open, and the rich scent hit her nose.

Jemma’s stomach rebelled. Clamping a hand over her mouth, she shot to her feet and dashed for the toilet.

Nothing came up right away, but she stayed leaning over the sink just in case. After a few moments, Fitz walked in, wearing a sheepish grin along with his cardigan.

“I have to say this doesn’t look like fine,” he said.

She glared at him around her hair from where she was leaning over the sink. “Contrary to all biological facts in the matter,” she said. “I have decided this pregnancy is entirely your fault.”

Fitz’s brow raised. “I surprised it took this long for you to realize I’ve been budding off clones of myself and implanting them in you. Molly’s the spitting image of me.”

Jemma managed a laugh, straightening up so that Fitz could pull her into a hug. She wouldn’t mind so much if the new baby looked a lot more like Fitz.

“I think I need to rest for a moment,” she said, holding her husband tight. He stroked her hair.

“I’ve got this. Dishes will be in the dishwasher shortly, and I’ll get Molly bathed and in bed.”

“You’re the best, Fitz.” She couldn’t quite remember how they’d gotten from space back to earth…her mind spun, oh, wait. That’s right. She’d been hurt and knocked out during the flight back. Her memories of finding the perfect cottage while pregnant with Molly, and moving in, were much clearer. She kissed his stubbly cheek. “If I fall asleep, wake me up before heading downstairs. I have a few ideas about the machine.”

“Will do.” Another kiss and he led her to the couch. She arranged the pillows just right and lay down.

She must have fallen asleep almost instantly because when she snorted herself awake, the dishwasher was already going.

Jemma stood, stretched, winced at the residual nausea, and padded upstairs.

Fitz was sitting with Molly on her bed, their daughter in her pajamas and looking scrubbed. Her long hair had been carefully combed out, and she appeared enraptured as Fitz read her a story.

The sweet sight of her little family together, their heads bent over a book, made Jemma’s chest ache with happiness. This was what she’d been dreaming of for what felt like ages. When Fitz was done, he covered Molly’s face with kisses and tucked her in. Jemma walked in and added a few more pecks to Molly’s forehead.

“Goodnight,” Jemma said, brushing her daughter’s hair back out of her face. “I love you.”

“Da loves you too.” Fitz took Jemma’s hand as he stood. “Which is why I had you brush your teeth, and then read you your favorite story, have the right number of blankets on the bed, and put a glass of water on your nightstand.” He smiled at Molly. “Goodnight, Monkey.”

“Goodnight,” Molly said, yawning. “Love you.”

She shut her eyes, and almost immediately relaxing heavily against the bed, her face tilting to the side.

Jemma shared a look with Fitz, and they quietly tiptoed from the room and down the stairs.

“Do you need anything to eat?” Fitz asked in the kitchen. “Spot of toast?”

She put a hand over her belly and grimaced. “I think work sounds better.”

“Poor Jemma,” he said, not sounding very sorry. More smug, really. She narrowed her eyes. Fitz grinned at her like he could read her mind, and her irritation evaporated. How could she be mad when he had a face like that?

Fitz opened the door to the basement, and they both thumped down the stairs. The half-built time machine sat against one wall, and the plans hung on another.

“Are we working on the wavelength attenuator tonight?” Jemma asked, pulling a ponytail holder from her pocket and putting her hair up with practiced movements.

Fitz wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Maybe, I feel we need to worry about our power source wiring first.” She hummed an agreement, then got thoroughly distracted as Fitz’s hand crept under her blouse to fondle her breast. “Fancy a bit of pleasure before business?” he whispered into her ear, pressing his hips and erection against her rear.

Jemma started to push back, but then her belly rebelled, strongly, and the only noise she made was a sad little whimper.

Fitz’s hand dropped away, and he gently hugged her. “Sorry,” he said, then chuckled. “I didn’t mean to make you nauseous with my uncouth sexual advances.”

With a snort, she turned in his arms. “I happen to like your sexual advances. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be having this problem right now with my stomach.”

He ducked his head. “If it wasn’t for me—”

“Doctor Leopold James Fitz,” she interrupted. “If you are about to say something about how I deserve better, or apologize for absolutely anything, I’ll make nothing but brussels sprouts for dinner for the next month.”

“Uh, I cook at least three nights—”

“Not my point.” She cupped his cheek and kissed him softly.

After a moment, he broke the kiss and awkwardly tried to shuffle back. Jemma rolled her eyes and dropped her hand to his cock, rubbing it through his trousers.

Fitz looked down. “That’s not fair.”

“Just because my body is being uncooperative right this second doesn’t mean you need to apologize for yours not doing the same.” She nibbled at his neck. “And you know once my hormones kick in, I’ll hardly let you out of bed for months.”

“I quite enjoyed that bit when you were carrying Molly. It certainly wasn’t the worst part of my life.”

“Mine either.”

“I like you being pregnant,” Fitz blurted, continuing to watch her stroke his prick.

She undid his trousers, and he groaned as she pulled his cock free. “That’s flattering.”

“My prick?”

“You liking me being pregnant. Do try to keep up, Fitz.”

He raised his hands, fingers spread, and made a face. “It difficult when you’re having your way with me.”

“Sure, blame me. The one carrying your offspring.”

His expression became all gooey, and his hands dropped. “Yeah.” His cock jerked against her palm, and she smeared the white drop forming at the tip over the head with her thumb.

“I love you, Fitz. You and our little growing family. It’s what I want more than anything. Us all together in our little house, and an interesting project to work on when we can.” Jemma thought it was a bit odd SHIELD had entrusted them with something so top secret when all they had was a basement to keep it in. Not that anyone would know what it was if they stumbled over it. Probably the safest place for it, really. Better than a lab on the Zephyr at any rate.

Fitz cupped her cheek. “And I love you, and our home and family. I can barely believe we made it here. It’s lovelier than any dream.”

“It is.” She carefully went to her knees and licked the head of his cock before sucking it between her lips.

“This is also nice,” Fitz said, moaning.

Jemma worked her hand into his trousers and cupped his balls, massaging them gently. Fitz’s legs moved a little farther apart to give her more room. She bobbed her head, her other hand around his shaft to stroke because she couldn’t take too much of him in and risk gagging. That wouldn’t end well.

It wasn’t long before his sac drew tight against his body, and she sucked harder and slid her palm over him faster.

“Oh, Jemma,” he groaned. There was a breathless pause. “Jems, oh…god, wait, wait, I think I got something. Bloody hell…Jemma!”

His cock pulsed, and she belated realized that come might night be the best thing to try and swallow at the moment, but thankfully, it went down with no problem. As soon as his cock stopped twitching, Fitz hauled her to her feet and turned her around towards the rough plans for the time machine that were on the wall.

“I figured out that equation, the one in the lower right that’s been a tricky bugger,” Fitz said, tucking himself away. He looked at Jemma as she was wiping her mouth and paused. “Are you doing okay?”

“Yes, actually. Now tell me your solution.”

Fitz absolutely lit up, and Jemma quickly caught his enthusiasm.

Every day here, with Molly, Fitz, and now their new little one who was coming, was heaven.

****

Enoch watched the code playing on the screen dispassionately.

“Why this one?”  Altarah asked. “There is no danger. No motivation beyond that the project is interesting. However, they are happy to work on the time travel machine for hours at a time.”

“Humans put great importance on family bonds.” Enoch crossed his arms.

Altarah shook her head. “I do not understand.”

“I believe that to both Fitz and Jemma, this is the ideal situation for them. They are safe and have young ones to love, a home that meets their biological requirements for survival and provides extra comforts such as heat, and an intellectually stimulating project with no deadline. This is their paradise.” He pressed his lips together. “The simulation is effective because they both want this to be factual and not an illusion. Their minds fill in any perceived irregularities so as not to reject it. It is the reality they want.”

“As long as they make progress on the machine, then they will remain in it.”

Enoch looked up at Altarah. “You should hope they never complete the design.”

“Why?”

“Because if they ever wake up and realize their happiness is a falsehood—” Enoch paused, both to ensure Altarah was listening and for dramatic effect, “then you will die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope the episode will give (or gave, depending on when you're reading this) a good solution to everything for FS.


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